Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Vanuatu and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Joyce Sims to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Todd Rundgren,
Cymande,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
Los Fastidios,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
Danielle Patucci,
Pere Ubu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
Kaleidoscope,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Infiniti,
Make Up,
Sight & Sound,
X-102,
JFA,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
David McCallum,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
The Fuzztones,
Rosa Yemen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Davy DMX,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
Loose Ends,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boz Scaggs,
Fela Kuti,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Iggy Pop,
Donald Byrd,
In Retrospect,
The Knickerbockers,
Roxy Music,
Warren Ellis,
Black Sheep,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Aural Exciters,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.